


Space Bound

by pontmergay



Series: Come Find Me [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9134122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pontmergay/pseuds/pontmergay
Summary: Sam Foster is just an ordinary teenage witch trying to navigate life through school, friendships, and a not-so-secret crush, but life is hard when one of your best friends is Harry Potter. Trouble seems to follow both him and his friends around and try as she might to stay out of it, Sam is just too good of a friend to leave him out on his own. Now, with the Triwizard Tournament coming to Hogwarts, Sam smells trouble coming up. She's going to have a lot on her plate this year, but with her friends by her side she's sure everything will work out fine.(This work follows the story line of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.)





	1. A Weasel

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! This is a rewrite of my story "Everybody Party Till the Gasman Comes." I will not be deleting that one until I've gotten caught up on my rewrite (it's originally posted on Mibba with 16 chapters (still unfinished)), so until I've rewritten all 16 chapters and made my changes, the few chapters of Gasman that are up will remain up. As I've previously stated, like when I first decided to post this here on ao3, I've been working on this story since 2010. That being said, I might have thought I was a great writer when I was 15, but I know now that I can do better. 
> 
> I'm keeping with the theme of using songs I love as the summary and title for this (it WILL be a series), but I'm changing this one because Vampire Money really had nothing to do with the story (15-year-old me was just MCR trash). Title credit for this now is Space Bound by Eminem. I've been thinking a lot about it lately and there is a lot that could be redone with that original version. First and foremost, I'm switching from first to third person POV. There is just so much more I can do with that switch, like show other characters doing things without Sam. Second, I'm changing up some of the back story, which will, eventually, change portions of the actual plot.
> 
> I really think that having this to focus on will help get my mind off of things that have been going on in my life, and since writing and George Weasley are two of my favorite things in the world, I figure there is nothing better to help get me back on track to being myself.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do.
> 
> Aleka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which George is a terrible thief, and Sam knows how to get what she wants.

Ginny’s room was, to put it simply, a complete disaster. Almost 100% of that mess was Sam’s fault, and though she was stubborn and proud almost to the point of it being a fault, she promised herself that she would be the one to clean it up. Well, most of it, anyway. 

Midnight was fast approaching and the three girls (Hermione had joined the group at the Burrow a few days previously) should have been asleep hours ago. It wasn’t the excitement for the coming day that was keeping them awake though. The Quidditch World Cup had been almost totally erased from their minds after the second hour of Sam’s harrowing search for her old teddy bear, Weasel. She had thrown her duffle bag full of clothes around the room and torn apart her bed looking for him, eliciting many groans of frustration from her two friends. They needed to sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen until the room was clean (Mrs. Weasley had stopped in on her way to bed and demanded it be done), and the cleaning wasn’t going to happen until Sam had found her bear.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen him?” Sam’s voice was hardly above a whisper, and the look on her face made Ginny and Hermione exchange a look of their own that silently voiced their worries that the tiny girl in front of them was going to have a mental breakdown.

The impending breakdown, however, did not stop Ginny from replying, exasperation mixing with her anger, with, “You really can’t think of the two people in this house who get their rocks off by working you up like this?”

Sam stared at Ginny. “They wouldn’t,” she said, sure of herself until she looked at Hermione and saw the same look she’d been getting from Ginny. “Oh, fuck!” She let out a huff of air then spun on her heel and left the room, resisting the urge to slam the door behind her only because she didn’t feel like being yelled at by Molly and Arthur.

When she - finally - reached the door to Ron’s attic bedroom, where the twins were staying that evening, Sam shoved the door open, not bothering to catch it before it smacked hard against the wall. The twins looked up at her from their places on their respective beds. Harry and Ron, who had been quite sound asleep beforehand, shot up in their own beds and grumbled at her.

She glared at her friends and hissed at them to go back to sleep. Then, to the twins, “What did you do to him?”

The two looked at each other and slowly, almost comically, identical grins began to split their faces. “What are you on about, Sammy?” Fred asked, wide smirk only making her angrier.

“Oh, bollocks! You both know bloody well what I’m talking about! Where is Weasel?”

“Weasel?”

“Isn’t that the teddy bear we got you for your birthday like 10 years ago?” George snickered.

Sam mustered up her strength and let a well of tears slide down her cheeks while walking over towards the slightly more serious of the two boys. “Georgie,” she whispered once she was in front of him, “I’m really tired, and you know I can’t sleep without him.”

George’s eyes shifted between the crying girl in front of him and his brother a few times as he felt his resolve waver. They landed on Sam’s a final time before it broke. “Oh, Merlin’s beard, Samantha!” He reached for underneath the heap of blankets to his left and pulled out a small, brown stuffed bear that looked as if it had seen much better days, handing it to Sam and avoiding his brother’s gaze.

A grin spread over her face and Sam threw her arms around George’s neck. “Thank you, Georgie!” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before running out of the room.

Fred shook his head at his twin and whispered, “You’re unbelievable.”

Sam giggled to herself then skipped back to Ginny’s room, Weasel swinging at her side.


	2. Pockets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ginny is a typical little sister, and Sam hates exercise.

Mrs. Weasley carefully pushed the door to her only daughter’s room open, and was surprised - but elated - to find that it was as spotless as a 13-year-old’s room could be when she’d had two friends over. At any rate, she had just woken the boys up and Ron’s room was much worse for the wear than his sister’s.

She easily woke up Ginny and Hermione, lightly touching their shoulders and whispering their names. Sam, she knew, would be a harder case. The dark haired girl was sprawled out over the second bed in the room, her night shirt pulled up just above her bellybutton and loud snores escaping her gaping mouth.

“Sam, it’s time to get up.” Molly’s voice was as soft as it always was when she spoke to Sam, but she kept it stern as she had when waking up the twins a little while earlier. She shook her head when the only thing Sam did was flop onto her side and groan, and looked at the other two girls with a pointed look. “Make sure she gets up.”

When she knew that Molly had left the room, Sam pulled Weasel closer to her chest and the covers up under her chin, snuggling down and ready to fall back asleep. Alas, that didn’t happen.

The blankets were yanked off of her, and when she opened her eyes she let out a squeal in protest of the light in Ginny’s room. She turned her attention from the offending party and to the foot of her bed, where Hermione was standing with the quilt in her hands. She was already dressed and seemed ready to go, her playful glare only slightly impatient. She dropped the blanket and picked up Sam’s duffle, meaning to throw it in her lap but still laughing with Ginny when it hit her in the face. “Get up and dressed, Sammy. We’ll be leaving soon.”

“And I don’t think your boyfriend would appreciate being late to the match because of you.”

Sam sent her own glare in the general direction of Ginny, hopping out of bed and grunting dramatically as she stretched. “Damn, am I tired.”

Ginny tugged on an especially crazy strand of hairs sticking out from Sam’s head and pointed at the duffle. “Clothes. Put them on. Now.”

“Alright, alright.” Sam held her hands up in surrender. She stripped out of her night clothes then struggled into a pair of jeans that she could have sworn were just too big on her a month ago and pulled on a long-sleeved top. She shrugged into a flannel button up, and, for dramatic effect, jazz handed at her friends to show she was ready. “Happy now, lovelies?”

“As long as we don’t have a travesty occur in the form of a stuffed animal again anytime soon, we’re perfect.”

Sam narrowed her eyes at Ginny. “You’re a bitch.”

The ginger girl grinned and wrapped her arm around Sam’s shoulder. “But you love me.”

***

Everyone was congregated in the kitchen when the girls finally (after being scolded by Molly for taking so long) went downstairs. Ginny walked over and plopped down at the table next to her father while Hermione joined Ron and Harry, and Sam ran over and hopped up onto the counter beside George.

“Hi, Georgie.”

The only reply he gave was a short grunt, causing Sam to laugh. She laid her head on his shoulder and spaced out, staring at Mr. Weasley as he explained to Harry how they’d be getting to the Cup.

After a few short minutes, everyone was snapped to attention when Mrs. Weasley yelled at her fifth born.

George looked at her with wide eyes, feigning innocence. Sam was confused at what was going on for only a moment, before she saw George’s hand inch toward the front pocket of his jeans. “What, Mum?”

Molly’s eyes narrowed. “What’s in your pocket?”

George kept the act up and shook his head. “Nothing.”

Suddenly, five or six brightly colored objects flew from his pocket to Molly’s outstretched hand. Sam took that as her cue to leave before the argument started and hopped down from the counter while shouldering her bag, walking through the kitchen and out of the Burrow entirely.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, after the shouting had stopped, Sam could hear Mrs. Weasley saying her goodbyes to everyone. Fred and George trudged out of the house, identical frowns covering their faces as they walked passed her. She jogged a bit to catch up to them.

“I’m not trying to say I told you so, but I did tell you to put them in your knapsacks,” she said, voice hushed as they were still quite close to the Burrow and she knew that, like her own mother, Mrs. Weasley had great hearing when it came to hi jinks.

Fred glared down at her.“Oh, shut up, Sam.”

“Okay, no need to be rude, Frederick. I’m just saying. If you hadn’t put them in your pocket, like I told you not to, George, there wouldn’t have been a bump in your pants and your mum wouldn’t have noticed anything.”

George snorted and Fred grinned down at her. “Oh, there was a bump in my pants, was there?”

Sam’s face went blank and she felt her cheeks heat up. She was happy for the mostly-dark of the morning and turned around to back-track and stand beside Hermione and Ginny. “I hate your brothers, Gin,” she complained, glaring at the boys’ backs ahead of them.

“Do you really?” Ginny asked. “I was under the impression you liked one of them quite a bit.”

“I hate you, Ginny.”

***

The group reached the other side of Stoatshead Hill and Sam seriously contemplated dropping to the ground in exhaustion. For the rest of her life she would complain to anyone who would listen about how much she hated the trek over it.

Two people were standing on the side they were headed towards, and one of them spoke once they were close enough.

“Arthur, is that you?”

Mr. Weasley led them over to the two that would be joining them for the trip, Sam silently cursing him and wishing she could take a 15 hour nap. He introduced them to Amos Diggory and his son, Cedric, whom they knew to be the Seeker and captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team at school, which had beaten them in a match the previous year. Sam slowly made her way back over to the twins.

“Come to check on my trousers?”

She scowled, rolling her eyes. “I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said shortly. “But no, actually what I came over here for was to get a better look at Cedric. He’s looking quite fit this year, isn’t he?”

Both of their faces became hard as they glared at her.

Sam laughed and reached up on her tiptoes to rustle their hair.

“Oh, c’mon, guys. You know I only like gingers.”

“Named George?”

The trio turned around to see Ginny standing behind them, a harmless grin on her face.

“You know, Ginny, you’re like a sister to me, and I love you, but you’ve really been getting on my nerves lately, and I feel like I need to remind you that I know how to kill a man with my bare hands.”

“Aw, Sam!” Ginny grinned. “That’s what sisters are for!”

Sam opened her mouth to reply but was cut off when George leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Come on, love. It’s time to go.”

She shivered, and looked up at George. He sent her a soft smile then took her hand and led her over to where the others were all huddled around the portkey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly to be honest..........
> 
> molly weasley is my mother and i would die for her.
> 
> i probably won't post again until i get at least two more chapters rewritten, so...i hope this cute lil chapter holds you over for awhile. :D
> 
> also i'm trying to keep up with the fact that this takes place in the early 90s (and england), but as i was born in '94 and have never even been to england i'm not too sure as to how to go about that. if i flub anything up let me know!
> 
> aleka
> 
> (also catch me on tumblr, @ pontmergay. i post a lot of yuri on ice and les mis, so if you're interested in that sort of thing, hit me up!)


	3. The Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which wizard-Nazis take over a sporting event.

Sam ran to catch up with the rest of the group, her legs moving at a pace she never thought she’d achieve again after climbing Stoatshead. They were on their way back to the tents after the match and, in true Sam fashion, she had let her mind wander; forcing herself at least 10 paces behind everyone else. She smiled brightly at Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione as she passed by them.

When she was close enough, she pounced up onto George’s back. His knees buckled but he caught her nonetheless. “Hi, George! Do you think you could carry me the rest of the way?”

He turned his head to get a better look at her. “Now why would I do that?”

“Because I’m tired and you love me. Both are pretty valid reasons, to be honest. Pick your favorite.” She smiled.

“Well,” George said, adjusting her slightly so she wasn’t hanging off of him, “I’m tired as well.”

Sam gave him her best puppy eyes and jutted her bottom lip out like a toddler. “Please, Georgie?”

He shook his head and looked away from her. “I really hate it when you do that, you know.”

“Fine,” Sam sighed. She slid off of George’s back, taking the spot beside him and grabbing his hand in her own.

 

* * *

 

The group arrived back at the tents and immediately fell into disarray. They should have been going to sleep, but they were all too wound up from the match to actually do so. Plus there were so many people around them still celebrating that they wouldn’t have been able to sleep very well anyways. Mr. Weasley made them all some hot cocoa, and Sam went over the night’s events in her head as her companions discussed them aloud. She couldn’t wait to get home the next day and tell her parents about it.

Sam was sat cross-legged on the floor beside Hermione while Ginny was at the tiny table next to them. The three watched as the boys argued about the match.

All of a sudden a puddle of hot cocoa rolled of the table from Ginny’s spilled mug and into Sam’s lap. She shrieked and jumped up, ready to yell at her friend, only to notice that Ginny’s head had hit the tabletop and she was sound asleep. She frowned back and forth between Ginny and the brown stain on her jeans.

“Oh!” Mr. Weasley turned away from Charlie, with whom he’d been talking, to see what had happened. “Well,” he said, hurrying over to right the mug and wake Ginny, “we’d all best be getting to bed now.”

There was a collective groan at his words, but everyone got up and started moving to appease him. Hermione stood to help Sam get Ginny back to their own tent. They said their goodbyes to the boys and left, changing once they had arrived into their night clothes and climbing into their bunks.

After what seemed like only a few minutes, the semi-quietness that the girls had fallen asleep to was interrupted by screams and heavy footsteps from outside the tent. Sam sat up in her bed, confused, and after only a few seconds Mr. Weasley had come in from the outside and was waking the other two girls, telling them all that they needed to get dressed and outside as quickly as possible. Sam jumped off of her bunk and pulled a coat on over her pajamas. Hermione and Ginny shared worried looks with their friend before leaving the tent.

The rest of their group was gathered in front of the other tent. There were crumpled tents littering the ground around them and the fires that had been illuminating the night only hours previously had been, for the most part, snuffed out. Sam looked behind herself across the grounds to see what the trouble was and found it almost immediately: A group of masked wizards were terrorizing the family of Muggles - and their own fellow wizards - who had been keeping the grounds.

“We’re helping the Ministry,” Mr. Weasley said, pulling Sam from her thoughts. It wasn’t until then that she realized that there were various Ministry workers running around trying to calm everyone down and get to the group of terrorists. “You,” he glanced pointedly at the under 17-year-olds, “get to the woods. Stay together. I’ll come find you when everything’s been sorted out.”

Bill, Charlie, Mr. Weasley, and Percy ran towards the marching group to join the other Ministry wizards, while the rest of the group silently tried to figure out what they were doing.

Fred grabbed hold of Ginny’s hand and pulled her towards the woods, while George grabbed onto Sam’s hand and sprinted after them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were close behind.

The sounds of the woods enveloped the group as they made their way through the trees. Sam was happy that George had a firm grip on her hand; knowing he was there with her was one of the only things keeping her from letting her fear get a hold of her. The shadows of people ran through the forest among them, along with terrified shouts to friends and family members and children crying.

It was very dark and none of them knew exactly where they were. People were pressing in all around them, jostling them against and farther away from one another, and Sam let out a gasp when her hand was suddenly pulled from George’s. She heard a yelp somewhere to her left that sounded like it had come from Ron.

Hermione’s voice came out as a half-shriek. “What happened?”

She lit her wand and pointed it at Ron, who was laying on the ground spread eagle. Sam had to force down the sudden urge to laugh.

“Tripped over a root,” Ron explained.

“It’s hard not to, with feet that size,” a voice said from behind them.

Sam turned only to see Draco Malfoy. He was alone, leaning against a tree. Unlike everyone else in the woods he seemed to be perfectly content among the panic. He glanced behind himself and she realized that he’d been watching the campsite from his place in the trees.

Ron responded to Malfoy’s remark by telling him to do something that would not have gone over well if he’d said it in front of his mother.

Malfoy smirked. “Language, Weasley. Shouldn’t you be hurrying along? You wouldn’t want them spotting _her_ , would you?”

Sam’s eyes immediately flashed over to Hermione and she wished she was still with George, Fred, and Ginny. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione asked.

“They’re after _Muggles_ , Granger. Do you want to be showing your knickers off in midair? If so, hang around. They’re moving this way and it’d give us all a laugh.”

“Hermione’s a witch,” Harry snarled, jaw tight.

“You really think they can’t spot a Mudblood?” Malfoy grinned. “Stay where you are.”

“Watch your mouth, Malfoy!” Ron yelled.

Hermione quickly dismissed the oily comment that had been aimed at her and grabbed Ron’s arm to keep him from hurling himself at the blond boy in front of him.

“I suppose your daddy told you lot to hide? What’s he up to- Trying to rescue the Muggles?”

“Where are _your_ parents?” Harry asked heatedly. “Out there wearing masks, are they?”

Malfoy ignored Harry, but continued smiling. Hermione threw a disgusted look at Malfoy and hurried them all off to look for everyone else.

As they walked through the woods Sam zoned out again. She kept her eyes pealed looking for familiar faces but didn’t see any, and wondered where the other three Weasleys had gone to. For a second she worried that something bad had happened to them.

After what seemed like hours of aimless wandering, Sam tuned back into what was going on after she heard Hermione and the boys’ speaking quiet and come to a stop. She looked at the three of them and wondered what had happened while she was gone. Harry was yelling to see if someone was around, though Sam couldn’t see anyone herself and couldn’t hear anything either. After a few moments the silence of the night was broken by what sounded like a spell.

From the treetops a huge, green _thing_ flew up into the sky. Sam immediately knew what it was and a knot knit itself into her stomach. Screams erupted from all around them, and Hermione led them away, explaining to Harry - who’d been confused - that the mark in the sky belonged to You-Know-Who.

A long series of popping noises announced that several wizards had appeared around the group of teenagers. All of them had their wands out and Harry quickly yelled for his friends to duck down- Just in time, as each of the wizards tried to Stupefy them.

Mr. Weasley’s voice broke the sounds of spells being cast. “That’s my son!”

Sam looked up and saw Arthur walking quickly towards them. The expression on his face told them he was as terrified as they were.

“Ron, Sam, Harry, Hermione- Are you alright?” His voice was shaking.

“Get out of the way,” said a cold, slightly familiar voice.

Mr. Crouch and the rest of the Ministry wizards who’d been firing on the group were swiftly closing in on them. Crouch looked enraged, as if they’d had something to do with You-Know-Who’s mark being thrown into the sky.

“Which of you did it?” he snarled.

Sam stared incredulously at the older man while her friends defended themselves.

“We didn’t do that!” Harry yelled at the same time Ron said, “We didn’t do anything.” The red-head’s eyes darted quickly and warily between Mr. Crouch and his father.

“Do not lie!”

“We’re not lying!” Sam said, voice hard. The moment the words left her mouth she felt small. She wished she hadn’t said anything as everyone’s gaze moved to her. “Whoever did that- It wasn’t us, sir. They were standing over there.” She pointed in the general direction of where they’d heard the spell being cast.

“Over there?” Crouch’s expression was one of disbelief.

Unlike Crouch, the rest of the Ministry officials seemed to have the sense enough to know that the teenagers had nothing to do with the Dark mark being conjured. They all pointed their wands to the spot Sam had indicated and sent someone over to check it out.

What they found, though, was an unconscious house-elf. Mr. Crouch’s elf. They found her with Harry’s missing wand, and, upon using a spell to find out the last spell the wand had cast, found that it had, indeed, been the wand to summon the Mark. Mr. Crouch immediately dismissed the little elf. As the elf was crying, Hermione defended her, but no one was listening.

Mr. Weasley led the group back to the tents. Sam kept her eyes trained on the ground as they walked, hoping the elf would be okay.

They reached the tents and Charlie’s head was immediately poked through the front of the boys’. “What’s going on?” he asked. “The others got back alright-”

“They’re here,” Mr. Weasley explained quietly, gesturing to the four teenagers trailing behind him.

They entered the tent single file. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table, holding a sheet to his arm to try to stop the blood seeping from a wound. Charlie’s shirt was ripped and Percy had a bloody nose. Fred, George, and Ginny seemed to be unhurt. Upon seeing Sam, George stood up from where he’d been sitting and half-ran across the floor to her. He grabbed her hand back in his and pulled her from the tent.

“What happened?” he asked.

Though his question was vague, Sam knew he wasn’t asking about the Mark. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I got caught up in the crowd.”

“You’re not hurt.”

It wasn't a question but still she shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”

He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I was worried something was going to happen to you.”

“I was worried too,” Sam whispered.

George loosened his grip and kissed the top of her head. “You’re safe, though. And that’s all that matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the only excuse i have for this not being up sooner is Adulthood™
> 
> i am actively working on rewriting chapters now, though it's a little slow going as i really only ever write when i'm at work. i will try to be more regular, but with the aforementioned Adulthood™ looming over my head, i can't make any strict promises.


	4. Meet the Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Sam's parents, and her cat.

Not only was a very worried Mrs. Weasley waiting for them when they got back to the Burrow later that morning, but so were Sam’s parents. The three stood in the front yard, Mrs. Weasley and Sam’s mother Rhea huddled close together and her father, Mitchell, was close by.

As soon as Mrs. Weasley saw the group she let out a cry. “Oh thank goodness!”

She ran towards them, still in her house slippers, with a copy of the  _ Daily Prophet  _ rolled up in her hand. Sam’s parents strode forward together behind her.

“Arthur, I’ve been so worried.” Mrs. Weasley flung herself onto her husband and squeezed him tight.

Rhea and Mitchell walked to Sam and pulled her into a hug of their own, her mother smoothing her hair and father rubbing her arm. Sam caught sight of the  _ Prophet  _ headline (SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP) from where Molly had dropped it in the grass and tugged her parents closer. “I’m sorry, Mum,” she whispered.

“Oh, Sam,” Rhea breathed. “There’s no need to be sorry. We were worried, is all. You’ve done nothing wrong. We’re just happy you’re safe. That you’re all safe.”

Rhea pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead and Mitchell nudged her with his chin.

The three were startled out of their moment when Mrs. Weasley muttered, “Oh, boys,” and seized Fred and George tightly to her chest, their heads banging together. One of them groaned and the other told their mother that she was strangling them. Mrs. Weasley was too hysterical to care. “I shouted at you before you left!” she sobbed. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I said to you was that you didn’t get enough O.W.L.s? Oh, Fred… George…”

Mr. Weasley walked over to them and pulled his wife off of the twins. “Come now, Molly, we’re all perfectly okay,” he whispered. He led her towards the house, saying in an aside to Bill to pick up the  _ Prophet  _ so that he could see what they were saying about what had happened at the Cup.

Once they were all crammed into the Burrow’s tiny kitchen, Hermione made Mrs. Weasley a strong cup of tea - which Mr. Weasley poured a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey into. Bill handed his father the paper, and Mr. Weasley began reading with Percy peering over his shoulder.

Sam held tightly onto her mother’s hand, listening to Mr. Weasley’s mumblings as he scanned the  _ Prophet _ . Her dad’s hand was firmly placed on her knee, and he kept glancing at her face every few seconds. She sent him a small, reassuring smile and mouthed “I’m okay” at him. He gave her a nod and a smile of his own then turned back to listen to his friend, who was now discussing Rita Skeeter - a woman who wrote for the  _ Prophet  _ and had a certain knack for embellishing things. Sam leaned her head on Rhea’s shoulder and closed her eyes, listening only vaguely to what was being said.

After a few moments Mr. Weasley decided he needed to go into the office, Percy immediately saying he would go with him. Mitchell stood up carefully so as not to bother his daughter and looked between Mr. Weasley and his wife.

“Perhaps I should go in as well?”

Rhea looked at him with sad eyes and gave him a small nod. “If you think it’s what you need to do, love,” she whispered.

Mitchell nodded at her, then leaned down and placed a kiss on both her forehead and Sam’s. “I’ll be back later. I love you.”

Rhea smiled and repeated the sentiment back to him while pushing Sam’s hair away from her face.

Mr. Weasley, Mitchell, and Percy all left the kitchen in a hurry, Mrs. Weasley shuffling after her husband to tell him he shouldn’t have to go in at all - he’s on holiday, after all.

Before Molly was completely out of the room Harry spoke up and asked if Hedwig had stopped by at all with mail for him. When she gave a distracted reply in the negative and continued after her husband and son, he turned to Ron and gave him a pointed look. “Do you mind if I drop my stuff in your room?”

“Oh, I think I will, too,” Ron said, eyes straying to Hermione with a silent question.

She nodded as well, then gave a short look between the two boys and the sleeping Sam. Harry mouthed “later” at her and she gave another nod, the three of them heading out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

* * *

 

When she woke up a few hours later Sam was tucked into her own bed, her tabby cat Artemisia sleeping by her feet. The clock on the wall beside her wardrobe told her it was barely half one in the afternoon and she yawned, scratching Artemisia behind the ears. She smiled when the cat purred and stretched beneath her hand, then jumped off the bed and made her way to the kitchen where she knew her mother would be.

Rhea was stood at the sink, a cup of tea clutched in her hands as she stared out the window towards the Burrow. Sam took a moment to watch her mother, leaning against the doorframe with a small smile. Rhea was beautiful, even with her dark hair pulled back into a messy bun on top of her head and a ratty pair of Mitchell’s pajama pants on her legs. Everyone always told Sam how much she looked like her mother, but she couldn’t see it. Sure, their faces, hair color, eye color, and statures were eerily similar, but there was something about Rhea that Sam could never emulate.

She took a step forward. “Mumma,” she said, voice quiet.

Rhea turned around and smiled warmly at her daughter. “Hi, sweet girl. Did you sleep well?”

Sam nodded and moved to wrap her arms around her mother. Rhea didn’t say anything to encourage her but still Sam began speaking. “I was supposed to stay with George,” she whispered. “We were all supposed to stick together. One minute George had my hand and the next we were separated. I didn’t know where he was, or where Ginny and Fred were. I was so scared, Mummy.” She looked up at Rhea with wide eyes. “I thought something terrible might happen to them.”

Rhea put the tea down on the counter beside them and wrapped her own arms tightly around Sam. “Oh, sweet love. I am so sorry this happened. I can’t imagine how worried you were about them, how scared you must have been. I wish I could take all of that away and make you feel better. The only thing we can do is be grateful that none of you got hurt, and take the pain and the fear that we still have over this and make it into something to keep us strong.” She pulled back and looked down into Sam’s eyes. “You are so strong already, Sammy. You just have to use this to make yourself stronger. Remember the fear and the pain. Remember it, don’t let it consume you, and let it grow into something beautiful inside of you.” She kissed Sam’s nose and squeezed her tightly to her chest once more. “Your dad and I, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Fred and George, and Ginny and Ron, and all of them - we all love you so much.”

Sam squeezed her arms around Rhea tighter and tried to will herself not to let the tears clouding her eyes fall. It didn’t work. “I love you all too, Mumma.”

Artemisia wound her way around the two ladies’ legs and purred, letting out a small meow to let Sam know that she loved her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so funny story about when i got back to this rewrite after having been away for a long time: in the original story sam's parents were dead (not gonna explain that because it was poor decision making on my part), but when i went to re-read the passages i had already rewritten, i'd somehow managed to completely forget that her parents are alive in this now and about had a mental breakdown over it, lol. (maybe it was one of those "had to be there to actually find it funny" things.)
> 
> anyways. i have about a quarter of the next chapter written so far, and we'll be heading back to hogwarts with that one! thank you all for sticking with me through my sporadic updating. 
> 
> as always, i'm on tumblr at pontmergay.tumblr.com so feel free to find me and talk to me there if you're so inclined. :)


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